


Chocolat Blanc

by LueurdeLaube



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Cameos, Dorks, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, One Night Stands, Resonance Bang 2014, Romantic Comedy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LueurdeLaube/pseuds/LueurdeLaube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hooking up with a stranger at her childhood friend's wedding hadn't been Maka's plan, nor had she planned on being so hung up on him after that night. It had been just sex after all, even if he had been endearingly awkward and cute and had flirted with her via pastries. Maybe she should have at least asked for his last name as well. Written for Resbang 2014!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolat Blanc

**Author's Note:**

> This was long overdue, blame my laziness, but I'm finally posting my Resbang Entry here on AO3 as well. Not much to say other that I enjoyed writing this story immensely and that I'm really proud of it. Hope you enjoy it, too! Feedback and comments are always appreciated :)

It took Maka a while to find Liz's apartment. Even though Maka had been living in this city for five years now, a lot of places and districts were still left unexplored, much to her dismay. She had moved away from a dry desert town, which was morbidly referred to most of the time as Death City, to New York for college, and had since stayed here after finding employment, too.

She and Elizabeth Thompson had attended the same high school in Death City, and despite their clashing personalities, had managed to become very close friends. That is until they graduated and Liz had decided, to the surprise of many, to continue her studies abroad in England. Her friend had never been known to be particularly adventurous. Maka recalled how Liz would always tell her about how her perfect future looked without delving into a lot of detail aside from having enough money to take care of herself and her sister Patti with a steady job and a nice house.

Liz's excited voice greeted her giddily over the intercom, and within a moment, Maka's day brightened. She hastily walked up the stairs and beamed up at the figure of Liz, who was watching her with a grin, causing Maka to hasten her steps and tackle Liz into a hug.

"I missed you so much," Maka whispered as they pulled apart and her friend led her into her apartment. Even though they had tried to keep in touch via emails and facebook, they had inevitably drifted apart over the years with their hectic schedules, new friendships and the differing time zones making it more difficult to have conversations.

"Wow, your place is really amazing!"

"Heh, I know right?" Liz said with a flip of her long blond hair and a cheeky grin. Maka's eyes widened as she got a good look at the lavish living room. They sat down on the black leather couch before Liz excused herself briefly to the kitchen to prepare some coffee. She came back with two steaming cups and two small plates of chocolate mousse on a fancy ivory tray, placing them on the glass coffee table in front of her. "So what have you been up to, Miss Attorney? What's with the scarf? It's too hot outside for that."

Ignoring the latter comment by tugging at her scarf to see if it was still in place, Maka said, "How did you know I was an attorney?" She sipped primly at her coffee and took a bite from the delicious chocolate mousse.

Her friend scoffed, one arm slung over the backrest of the couch, her legs crossed. "I didn't, but I guessed it-" she motioned with her head towards Maka, smiling "-with the way you dress it was either that or a banker...or a secretary, but you're too ambitious to be satisfied with that."

Liz was right. Maka's dreams had always seemed more extravagant and perhaps more indecisive by comparison. She had toyed with the idea of becoming a teacher, but that thought vanished as soon as the second week of her freshmen year. Maka doubted she could ever possess the saintly patience of a good teacher and manage to deal with obnoxious teenagers on a daily basis. And since she didn't want to be one of those teachers who became teachers just because they didn't know what else to do, Maka had explored her opportunities to the fullest. She had shown interest in medical school, in an academic career at a university, in mechanical engineering, but after graduating from college with a degree in business and a minor in English, she had subsequently attended graduate school for her Juris Doctorate.

After passing her bar exam, she had quickly found a job at the law firm DT&K.

Maka giggled, self-consciously smoothing a hand over her black pencil skirt. "Fine fine, you got me. What have you been up to, Liz? Aside from getting such a nice place."

"Well, I got a degree in engineering and I'm still looking for a job . I actually moved in here because of my boyfriend."

"Oh? Did you meet him in London?"

"Yeah, he was visiting relatives in Europe. They are kind of all scattered across the world." Liz laughed, her cheeks pinking a little as she scratched the back of her neck. "Actually, boyfriend isn't the right word anymore."

Maka's lips stilled at the rim of the cup, her eyebrows drawn together questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, he's my fiancé."

It was a good thing Maka had not decided to take another gulp from her drink, or she would have spit it out all over the nice glassy surface of the stainless table in front of her. "What?"

"Yup, it means I'm getting married. In six months, so be prepared." Grinning triumphantly at Maka's gobsmacked expression, Liz held up a finger. In fact, she seemed so amused that Maka was starting to believe her friend was just messing with her. "Because I want you to be a bridesmaid."

Maka barely bit back a groan, and instead forced a smile on her face, gushing with congratulations and happiness for her friend. All the while, the only thing that went through her head was  _Not Again, Please_.

"Oh Maka, you're gonna love Wes!"

* * *

There was the distinct and potent smell of chocolate in the air- that was the first thought that came to Maka as she snuggled into her pillow, remembering a day of stress and hectic preparations, a day that ultimately paid off when she had seen her friends being happily married, a day of celebrations and nice food and sweets. A day of chocolate. Her cheek pressed against the silky texture of the pillowcase as she smiled to herself, her eyes still closed.

In a second her smile was gone.

In two seconds her eyes were open.

In another two seconds she became aware of the fact that her pillow felt different than usual. So did the sheets tangled around her body...

It took Maka another second to realize that she was naked, and not even a millisecond for all the memories from last night to rush back into her sleep-addled brain in an avalanche of embarrassment and an appalling sense of contented satisfaction. A sardonic grin, cheeky remarks and surprisingly insightful conversations rushed back into her mind before the sensation of long, nimble fingers on her skin and the feeling of a skilled tongue stroking her to pieces took their place as the memories flooded her, making Maka's blood boil, her skin itch and prickle.

She wrenched the sheets off her body in one movement and sat up to find herself alone.

The shiver that wrecked her body right after was because of the slight chill in the hotel room. Not because _he_ was gone. In fact, she should consider herself extremely fortunate that he wasn't here. She bit her lip as she scanned her surroundings, realizing with acute mortification that her underwear was carelessly sprawled out all over the floor and her pretty purple dress that had cost a fortune was hanging like a limp, empty potato sack on the right corner of the bedpost.

She rubbed her eyes before she forcefully dug the heel of her hand against her forehead with an irritated sigh.

Maka Albarn did not have one-night stands, and she had had a one-night stand. A part of her wished she could blame it on the alcohol, but the fact that she had had barely nursed one glass of wine nixed that sentiment. She had wanted to sleep with this man who was mercifully already gone.

Oh, were those his pants on the other side of the bed? And his black boxers over there? Yep. They were definitely his because she remembered taking them off, or trying to with her mouth before they had dissolved into silly giggles, before she had taken them off properly with her hands to reveal her prize. Shaking her head, or more accurately, wrenching her head from left to right with more vigour than necessary, Maka quickly stood up with a groan, silently grateful that the room had a carpeted floor. With the last traces of sleep gone, she eventually noticed that the shower next door was running. It was all she needed to know.

She hastily gathered her clothes, put on her underwear and dress, found her purse poking out from under the bed, and slipped into her black high heels with a grimace, wiggling her toes in a desperate attempt to make it a less painful experience. She had taken them off after the wedding ceremony, even though she hadn't planned to dance. She had taken her shoes off because he had suggested it.

Maka bit back another groan when she tasted that stupidly familiar taste of guilt on the tip of her tongue. She had no reason to feel bad. It was just sex. It wasn't like he'd be heartbroken over her swift retreat or anything. So, Maka nodded to herself resolutely, she was going to leave.

She cast one last glance back over her shoulder before she tiptoed out of the room.

* * *

Maka was usually quick and efficient with her work, but today was just so not her day. She had barely slept, her dreams haunted by the dark melody of a piano, of an unfamiliar room with black and red checkered tiles and a bed with silken sheets. There was, however, nothing unfamiliar about the blazing flash of red, of tan skin, of a vicious scar bisecting his torso, which she gently kissed until he was shuddering just from that beneath her. Nor was there any unfamiliarity in that sinful voice of his, a deep silky tone that seemed to have been made for seduction, a voice that had made her tremble even with the crudest of words.

Maka shook her head fervently, slapping her hands onto the scalding skin of her rosy cheeks.  _What was wrong with her?_  Yes, there was no denying the fact that she had had the most amazing of sex with that man, but that was no reason to let it distract herself from work. So what if there was a pang of regret in her heart that she had left so quickly the morning after? It was a stupid thing to feel in the first place. What was she, hung up over a one-night stand? She scoffed, raising her chin primly as her eyes focused on the flickering screen of her computer.

She had a lot of work to get done, therefore she couldn't even consider potentially daydreaming about some random guy. She needed to finish straightening out a slew of holdings for this company that was moving all of their assets into another corporation. Half of the certificates of merger weren't even signed by the proper agent! She let out a sharp breath between her teeth. She won't be able to get those certificates filed with the Secretary of State at this rate; she really needed to get to the paralegal that did this work for her. Or rather the new paralegal that took over after Kim quit her job over a salary dispute with the boss. She would need to be more strict with the new paralegal, a kind girl named Tsugumi, if she wanted this case to be done with.

Her job had never felt so much like a drag before. Clearly, she was overdue for some stress relief. Maybe she should take up yoga after work; after all, Tsubaki always spoke of it as a positive experience, even if she primarily tried to get Maka to accompany her to the yoga lessons so she wouldn't have to attend them by herself. Or maybe she should just use one weekend as a mini vacation. Perhaps visit her dad back in Death City, though she wasn't so sure if that would really make her less stressed. She huffed and placed her head on top of her folded arms on her desk, her eyes heavy-lidded and fatigued.

Maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to leave her one-night stand without even learning his last name. That man would have certainly been a great stress reliever. Her mouth curved into a lewd grin; she was way past the point of feeling ashamed for that train of thought, even if there was a small part within her brain that scolded her for being so much like her dumb papa. Regardless, Maka was about to succumb to another bout of daydreams/fantasies when her co-worker decided to drop a stack of folders right in front of Maka's face, making her jump and hold tightly onto the armrests of her chair with a startled squeal.

"Oops sorry," Blair said cheekily, not sounding apologetic at all.

"What is it, Blair?" Maka asked, trying hard not to sound as grumpy as she felt.

"Just came by to remind you of that conference call you have at 3 with Ms. Gorgon. You know the one who wants out of that partnership, and needs-"

"And needs to know what her rights are in keeping the company's assets when the partnership is dissolved. I know." Maka groaned; she would have gladly done any number of things to avoid that conference call. She clutched her head." She probably wants to me to try to hide assets for her."

"Yeah, that woman is like a snake," Blair said. Her voice didn't sound any different than before, but the casual flick of her wrist was enough to express her disdain for this particular client. "Just wanted to make sure you don't forget about her, since-"

Involuntarily, Maka found herself zoning out again. She briefly wondered why Blair was so intent on going through the case with her again; Maka was well-prepared herself, in spite of her normally hectic schedule with the recent addition of another wedding to come, and the occasional wet dream days after Tsubaki's wedding. She was honestly surprised at Liz's insistence on her being one of the bridesmaids, considering how out of touch they had been the latter half of their higher education. It warmed Maka's heart, of course, even if she was still recovering from the strenuous after effects of Tsubaki's grand wedding ceremony. It had been only two weeks, after all. Two days of which were spent trying to recover from a different type of  _after effect_.

"And I banged the boss by the way."

Maka's thoughts screeched to a grinding, squeaky halt, and her attention was now fully given in all its undivided glory to her sneaky co-worker. "Wh-what?" she spluttered, nearly jumping out of her seat, all her previous thoughts erased in a mixture of shock and consternation. "Blair!" she hissed with narrowed eyes, her head snapping from left to right to check if somebody was close enough to overhear them. "Isn't he married?! And twenty years older than you?"

Blair threw her head back and laughed loudly, flipping her extravagant purple hair over her shoulder. "Of course something like that would make you stop daydreaming. I haven't actually banged the boss," she admitted haughtily, her lips curving into a mischievous smile before she added quietly, but loud enough for Maka to hear, "Yet."

Maka's eyebrows furrowed as she once again wondered how they could make such an effective team in court when their personalities differed so starkly from each other. "You're impossible," Maka grumbled, frowning lightly as she turned her gaze back to the too bright screen of her PC. There was a barrage of new emails in her inbox she hadn't answered yet, and there was still a complaint she had yet to file, and a client to meet in two hours. She sighed, once again losing herself in her thoughts before Blair's well-manicured hand slammed on top of her desk, making Maka's half-empty mug rattle.

"What's  _up_ with you? You've been out of it all day. That's why I came here to remind you of that conference call because I wasn't even sure if you still knew."

"Why the hell should I not know?" Maka gasped, appalled. "I resent that! I'm not that irresponsible."

Blair's hard, inquisitive stare softened into a warm gaze. "I know you're not, Maka. It's been two weeks since your friend's wedding and you haven't been the same ever since. Staring into nothing and daydreaming- no, not even daydreaming, but  _sulking_ -" Blair pointedly jabbed a finger against Maka's shoulder, before she continued with a gentler voice, "What's the matter, Kitten?"

"It's nothing, really." Blair didn't even have to say anything. Maka looked up with a petulant scowl, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Her co-worker had her arms crossed, a finely arched eyebrow raised, disbelief clear in her amber eyes. That was why Blair was good at this job. She was persistent as hell, and their little law firm wouldn't have been able to win as many cases for their clients if it hadn't been for her. Even if Maka had initially been more than a little biased against the overly flirty and scandalous woman, she had later proven to be a better mentor to her than her actual mentor.

"Well, there is something, okay? But it's not anything  _important_ ; it's actually rather silly," Maka admitted after another minute of silent yet intense eye-interrogation. She pressed her hands together, shrugged, and then aimlessly started to type away at some document in the hope that Blair would stop pestering her. It was a futile attempt, but Maka Albarn could be stubborn, too. She missed the impish spark in Blair's eyes as a result of this.

"Maybe you really knocked yourself out during that wedding. After all, all guys dream of hooking up with a bridesmaid at such an event; even better when it's the maid of honour, right?"

Maka's back went ramrod straight, her palms flattening over the keyboard, and her clear, well structured sentence ended with a mismatched array of numbers and letters. Blair's eyes lit up, her grin curving in that wide, devilish grin she had perfected over the years.

"Aha! Looks like I hit the bull's eye!" She cackled.

"No, you did not!  _Urgh_ , shut up, okay? I'll tell you everything. Just be quiet."

After some more teasing and coaxing, Maka eventually relayed the whole story to her nosy co-worker, leaving out some of the more intimate details, which Blair was perfectly adept at embellishing herself. When she was was finally done, she sat there twiddling her fingers as Blair tapped her own index finger against her chin thoughtfully.

"It's silly, I know. I mean I'm not gonna see him again anyway, and why would I want to see him again in the first place? I just feel so stupid for zoning out like that because of some man I spent less than a day with," Maka said, huffing to herself. She felt even more foolish now that she had said it out loud. She was kind of hung up over someone she didn't really know, with whom she had had great sex, but that had been it.

"Well, it couldn't have been that meaningless if you're still thinking about him," Blair said.

Maka bowed her head, blonde bangs shielding her eyes. "Nah, I think it's mostly because I usually don't do this kind of stuff." She forced out a laugh and then cringed at how shrill and fake it sounded.

Blair hummed. "You could always ask your friend about him. The bride, I mean. Tsubaki, right? She might know how to find your handsome stranger!"

Of course! Why didn't she think of it sooner? Wait? Why was she thinking of it now? Maka snorted, mortified at how quickly that suggestion had taken hold in her mind. Even if she did see him again, what would she tell him?  _Hey, do you remember me? No? Well, that's also fine, but you know we had a great romp and I wanted to ask you if you were interested in-_

Shaking her head and trying to ignore her obviously flaming cheeks, she took out a bar of dark chocolate from the drawer of her desk.

"No, I'd rather not," she said, her voice unconvincing even to herself, but she ignored her co-worker's protests and proceeded to merrily munch on the chocolate.

* * *

Her hair was kind of in the way, framing her face and tickling his thighs, but Maka didn't let that deter her or even think of stopping. In fact, she grinned up at him, her heart fluttering in her chest in euphoria and a giddiness she hadn't known before as he grasped the sheets beneath him. She licked the tip of his dick, shuddering at the grunt he released which turned into a strangled moan when she licked up the side from base to tip before she took him fully into her mouth.

He was hot and thick, something that made her rub her thighs together at the thought of having him inside her again. She paid special attention to the ridge below the head, noting the sharp intake of breath that he held for a few seconds in his lungs before he released it as an appreciative groan. Maka's head bobbed up and down while she steadied herself with one hand on his thigh, and the other holding the base of his dick, stroking him, drawing expletives and the drawl of her name out of him in that rumbling timbre of his voice.

Her skin tingled, little sparks dancing up her arms and heating up her blood and making her core clench. She was ridiculously wet, and tempted to touch herself just now to relieve a little of the tension that was driving her crazy, yet for the moment she wanted to please this man instead, watch him come undone, watch that handsome face of his contort, see his sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip just because of her. She was a bit disappointed that his eyes were closed, and as if hearing her thoughts through some sort of weird telepathic link, he cracked one eye open, the red of his iris a sultry shade of unadulterated desire that caused a shock of heat to flare in her belly.

"Hah...I-mmmh- never would have thought you'd be so good at this," he rasped, his heels digging into the mattress. She noisily sucked on the head before she released him, looking at him with ardent green eyes, but she never stopped running her hand up and down his shaft, grinning to herself when she squeezed a little and he squirmed.

"Why?" she asked, trying to maintain a casual tone that bordered on flippant. There was a surge of arousal in her body, the tips of her fingers burning, her mouth dry and parched. She controlled him. She licked her lips. She could let him come any time, or watch his wonderfully tortured expression for another minute before she took mercy on him and sucked him into his next orgasm.

He grunted, his hands fisting against the sheets. "Didn't seem like the type," he panted.

She wasn't sure if it was meant to be a good thing or not, but decided that, surely, he wouldn't dare to insult her when she had his cock firmly in her hand and was still diligently pumping him. She ran a finger over the underside of his erection, relishing in his sharp intake of breath and his clouded red eyes fixed on her with awe and wonderment. Perhaps she should reward him for that; she took him in her mouth again, licking and sucking, and as she decided that she would like him to be a little bit more vocal, her other hand carefully touched his balls.

He came into her mouth, his dick pulsing, his voice throaty and desperate, and she mewled against his flesh as he came undone. His eyes were narrowed into slits, his lips parted, and his chest was heaving, so it made her squeak in surprise when he heaved himself up to sit on the bed and hug her against his chest.

His lips were rough and hungry, making Maka smile against the kiss. He ran a hand down her back, raising treacherous goose bumps in its wake, and dug his fingers into the firm skin of her ass. He had complimented her on it quite frequently when he had thrust into her from behind, clutching her hips to his while she sobbed his name for everyone to hear. He had teased her about it, telling her how she had probably woken up the people next door. She had punished him for his comment, and he had enjoyed that, too.

"You have great legs, did I tell you that?" he asked, his breath ghosting over her neck when he decided to taste the skin there, leaving his mark. She'd have to wear a scarf for work.

"Mmm, not yet." She craned her neck to the right, giving his lips more room to kiss, suckle and lick. He mouthed her earlobe, grazing it with his teeth, his mouth curving into a smirk as he nuzzled against her temple in a gesture that seemed far too intimate to be performed by someone whom she had only known for a few hours.

Yet Maka couldn't bring herself to care because his shoulders looked nice in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Firm, wiry muscles tempted her, made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand, made her skin heat up, her stomach flutter and her core clench. What if she just pushed him on his back and lowered herself onto his dick? Would he like that? But there was a certain kind of pleasure she derived from these small acts of touching. Her hands skimmed over his nipples and he jerked a little at that, biting her shoulder in retaliation. She sighed at the sensation and sunk further against him before she pulled away a little and caressed the hard muscles of his abdomen.

She brought him up for another kiss, their mouths lazily slanting against each other, their tongues pushing, unhurried. But soon, they were enveloped in the same heated excitement that had brought them into this room in the first place. Their hands wandered, eagerly gripping hot skin; he palmed her breasts, and her nails dug into his shoulder blades as she sighed against his throat in blissful gratification.

It was time, Maka decided, to put her wish into motion. He complied with her softly murmured order to lie down as she straddled his hips and sank down on him, bracing herself with her hands on his chest and eliciting needy moans from the both of them. She broke into a sweat as she rocked against him, her nerve-endings on fire at the sensation of his cock moving inside of her.

He groped her breasts, tweaking her nipples and she arched her back in response; her tempo was languid, her hips undulating slowly. His fingers roaming down her body left her feverish and short of breath, and she almost shouted in relief when he gripped her butt to make her move faster, her tired thighs aching, but she barely noticed this.

Instead the cries of his name became a frantic mess of syllables and vowels, her voice frenzied in her eagerness for release as he grunted beneath her, his eyes slivers of blazing red, his skin flushed. Her orgasm hit her forcefully, making her bend forward, whimpering, her toes curling, as he held her slackened torso up by her waist. He gave a final groan and followed her, their bodies aflame in their exhilaration.

Carefully, Maka climbed off his lap with knees that felt like jelly, and plopped next to him, her bones molten, her muscles lax. He turned his head towards her, a small smile gracing his lips, and in spite of her already racing heart, it still managed to make her blood rush faster through her veins. It didn't help her poor flailing heart when he moved a little forward and touched her nose with his before he pressed a kiss against her mouth.

* * *

"This was when we were at the stone walls of Lubaantun," Tsubaki said excitedly, and then pointing at another picture, she added, "Oh! And this is Cerros in the north. It was really amazing seeing all these sites. We also went to the Belize Barrier Reef scuba diving. If you ever go on a vacation to Belize, you have to do it, too, Maka."

Maka smiled faintly, amused by her friend's enthusiasm. "I'll remember that. But how did you get Black*Star to come with you to the ancient Maya temples? He's not exactly one for culture," she muttered, making Tsubaki laugh.

"Well, he can't exactly say no to his newly wedded wife." There was an odd gleam in her friend's blue eyes, something Tsubaki usually got whenever she was reading one of those perverted novels of hers, and Maka decided that she was not going to delve further into the mystical reasons of how her friend had convinced the thickheaded Black*Star to join her on a cultural sightseeing tour. Shaking her head, Maka opted to look at another photo, one with Tsubaki and Black*Star at the beach, posing and smiling, while he flashed a peace-sign at the camera like the doofus he was. Maka smiled fondly.

It was funny how her reckless and boisterous childhood friend had actually settled down. He had mellowed out a little over the years thanks to Tsubaki's calming influence, but Maka still wouldn't have thought he'd get married. Or - she made a face - that someone like Tsubaki would consider marrying someone like Black*Star. However, they were a weirdly compatible pair, all things considered, and Black*Star was a good man, honest and supportive. He had been a good shoulder to to cry on when they were young teenagers and the constant shouting matches and eventual divorce of her parents had worn her out emotionally, making her a miserable sobbing mess. Yes, he was a good man, when he wasn't boasting about his innate superiority or calling her a peon or pulling pranks on her like changing the ringtone of her phone to some ridiculous song of a kids' show.

"Oh!" Maka's eyes widened a fraction as she spotted a familiar picture. "This one's kinda old, isn't it?" She held it up for Tsubaki to see, grinning at the memories, of them in graduation gear and with their diplomas in their hands, wearing big smiles for the camera her papa had been holding.

"Oh yes, it's really been a while since we graduated college. How the time has passed," Tsubaki sighed, forlorn, taking the picture and smoothing a hand over it.

After Liz left for Europe, Maka had been more than a little sad to see a good, if not her best, friend go. Even if Tsubaki could never replace Liz, she had quickly become one of Maka's favourite people in their American literature class, and it hadn't taken long for them to become close friends, bonding over their shared taste in books and novels. Although, Maka had never exactly understood her friend's affinity for a particular kind of erotic literature, regardless of how often Tsubaki had tried to get her into it.

"By the way, where the hell did you disappear to during the reception. Suddenly you were gone?" Her friend's head snapped up, looking Maka imploringly in the eye. "You weren't there for the bouquet toss!"

"Oh...well."

"Everyone was there except for you."

Maka's heart dropped at Tsubaki's disappointed tone. She hadn't even thought about the bouquet toss because she had been busy with _him_. Squirming in her seat, Maka gave her friend the best puppy dog eyes she could.

"I'm sorry, I was-"  _having sex with a stranger_ ; she shook her head and said, "preoccupied."

Tsubaki's brows rose. "Preoccupied? What is that supposed to mean?"

This could be her chance to ask Tsubaki! But-but why should she? It made no sense at all to be so hung up over him. It was just sex! She repeated that to herself inwardly, but the memories that she kept buried in her mind weren't only of their passion-filled night, but of all the things before, the reasons why she had wanted to sleep with him in the first place. Perhaps she really should give it a go and ask.

Feeling exponentially more nervous than five minutes ago, Maka gulped, clenched her jaw, and explained to her friend calmly what exactly she had been up to and why she had missed the bouquet toss that seemed to hold some importance to Tsubaki. Deep blue eyes lit up, and for a moment Maka almost regretted spilling the beans.

"Well, that explains it all," Tsubaki said, grinning like a kid who had found the hidden jar of cookies. Her absence at the bouquet toss became a secondary issue, while her friend proceeded to interrogate her mercilessly. Who was he? Was he handsome? Did he have a nice voice? Was the sex any good? What about his ass?

The result was a tomato-red Maka, whose temperature was starting to rival that of an erupting volcano before Tsubaki was eventually satisfied.

"So...um," Maka croaked, clearing her throat, and continued with a marginally steadier voice, "So can you...maybe tell me who he is, so  _Icanfindhim_?" She held her breath and screwed her eyes shut, acute embarrassment threatening to melt the skin of her cheeks, yet the anticipation was gnawing at her nerves. She wondered for a second if she wasn't overstepping some boundaries here. Maybe he didn't want to be found? Was she being a tad stalkerish with this request?

"You said his name was Soul?" Maka nodded, released that breath before she took another and held this in her lungs, too. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember a Soul on the guest list."

She exhaled sharply, her stomach turning into tiny little knots of disappointment as her shoulders sagged and she slouched over the table.

"Maybe it's a nickname. It's probably a nickname." Tsubaki nodded to herself, brows furrowed in concentration, and Maka dared to hope again, before Tsubaki sighed. "I really don't know who it could be. I'm so sorry, Maka."

Forcing herself to sit a little straighter with the last vestiges of her dignity intact, Maka forced on a smile. "No worries. It's not that important anyway. Except if he was a wedding crasher or something," she laughed, but Tsubaki didn't. Instead there was a knowing glint in her deep blue eyes, telling Maka that she was far too transparent with her emotions.

"Oh this reminds me, I made some chocolate cake this morning. Would you like some?"

* * *

"You really suck at this."

"I told you I wasn't any good at music. You insisted on teaching me!"

"Pfft, yeah, but Twinkle Twinkle Little Star isn't that difficult to play, you know?"

The piano bench was cushy and soft and had enough room for the both of them to sit, but not enough for them to put much space between each other. He was oozing warmth, something she found comforting; it lulled her into a sense of security, listening to him attentively while he explained the basics of the piano. He had a nice voice, a soothing, calm tone.

"Come on, try again," he poked her in the side, making her jump and let out an undignified squeak. "Heh, cute. Like a mouse." Without waiting for a response, he took her right hand, placing her fingers on top of the keys that would hopefully this time produce a decent sound. As dejecting as it was to be reminded very potently that she really sucked at something, Maka couldn't bring herself to stop this impromptu lesson of his.

She was curious, yes, but she also liked the way he would touch her hands to show her how to play. Was there anything like perfect pianist fingers? His really looked like they had been specifically formed and sculpted to play the piano; long, nimble fingers that danced quickly over the keys. Maka squinted as she clumsily pushed on the order of keys he had made her memorize. There weren't many, so it was relatively easy, yet it was still a far cry from the fluidity of a real song. She blanched when he told her that he'd show her what to play with her left hand if she had the right hand part down.

"How about you play something now?" Maka asked as her wrist started to cramp. She rolled it once, twice, and cringed when her bones cracked.

"Fine."

"What? Really?!" She hadn't expected him to agree to it, and so quickly no less.

"Yeah, but don't go around telling that to everyone," he said grumpily, scowling. "Any song you want to hear in particular?"

Shaking her head, she beamed up at him, fiddling with her fingers. "No, just play whatever you like."

His hands were trembling as his fingers hovered over the keys. The trepidation in his bones was palpable enough for Maka to be affected by it, too. She shivered a little and stiffly placed her hands in her lap, awaiting his performance.

When his fingers clashed with the piano, lightning danced over her nerve endings. His song was familiar; even she had heard it a million times and recognized the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. She took a shuddery breath, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. There was something about the way he played. Even if she understood next to nothing about the mechanics of piano playing, she could still tell he was very talented to be able to play like that, to make her feel like her chest was about to burst with amazement.

His fingers were nimble and skilled, there were no awkward pauses when he played, there was nothing clumsy or stiff about the melody. Her eyes were transfixed on his hands, on how smoothly they moved, the slight curl of his fingers as he pressed the keys. Warmth stirred in her belly and flared through her body, reaching even the tips of her fingers, making them twitch as her breath caught in her throat.

What else could he do with his fingers? Maybe things that would leave her a different kind of breathless. Maka brought her hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear just to do  _something_. What was she even thinking about? Yeah, what the hell was she thinking about?! Entertaining such a frivolous idea...this wasn't like her at all!

Regardless of how much she wanted to deny it, Maka was well aware of this...this magnetic attraction between them. It wouldn't be the first time this night where she had to restrain herself before she did something stupidly impulsive. But his skin looked so very tantalizing; he had a nice tan. And a nice firm build, and maybe he would take off his clothes if she asked him nicely.

Maka shook her head, her skin feverish, as her thighs absently rubbed together. The last notes of the Moonlight Sonata trailed off before Soul's hands stilled and he exhaled sharply. His gaze was apprehensive when he studied her, his grin wry and uncertain.

"So yeah," he mumbled, staring to the side as he rubbed his neck and pulled on the collar of his shirt. "It's been a while since I played, so I've gotten a little rusty...and yeah." He laughed uneasily.

"No, no. You were amazing," she said heartily, barely recovering from her straying thoughts. His eyes shot back, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline.

"Really?!"

She nodded, her smile carefree and light at his boyish enthusiasm. "It makes me wonder why you stopped playing in the first place."

Soul's grin fell, his face wiped free of the delight that had made him smile so easily at her. She winced. She clearly shouldn't have said that.

"You're really curious, aren't you?" He bowed his head a little, his messy white fringe casting a shadow over his eyes as he ran his hand over the glossy surface of the piano.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry-"

"It's okay." He sighed and leaned back, propping his hands behind him on the seat, looking up at the ceiling. "This might sound weird, but I stopped playing because...because my skills couldn't compare to the rest of my family. They're all amazing, talented, and...I wasn't. So I decided to do something else, or I would have sulked about not being good enough my whole life."

Maka remained silent, pressing her lips together into a thin line. What should she say?

"But now I'm way more happy, I guess. My parents weren't exactly thrilled when I decided to pursue another career, but now I don't have to worry about being in my brother's shadow all the time. But yeah, sorry- man, this is so not cool. Talking about my family issues and whatnot."

"Ah, no, don't worry. I've blabbered about my family problems, too, and you listened. And if you-" the breath she took rattled her lungs, "-if you want to talk about it...I'm here." She averted her eyes as the impending force of her blush made her lightheaded. Or maybe this was the side effect of the foolishness she felt upon her declaration.

"Thanks," he eventually said, his voice shy and soft, and her shoulders sagged with relief. She hadn't even realized she had been so tense, so anticipating of his reply. Who was this man to make her feel this way? "But I think I'm okay for now. Do you, uh, want to hear another song?"

"Oh, sure!"

"Alright then!" He raised his arms again, the big goofy grin back on his face, and started to play. This time she didn't recognize the song. It was wild and untamed, a clash of somber dark tones, a melody of insane pacing, fast and relentless. How did he...how could he play so fast? Maka felt herself tremble, shaken to the core by the music; her heart clenched as she tried to breathe normally. His face was like a work of art chiselled in stone, the strong sharp angle of his jaw, the heavy set of his brows, the slight curve of his nose, and the firm set of his lip pressed together in concentration. He was a handsome man. Maka gulped.

The deep melody eased into lighter tones, sounding like the gentle tinkling of bells. His fingers lingered on the keys, slowing down as he pressed the last few notes with a dramatic tilt forward. Maka held her hand to her thundering heart.

"You're really amazing, you know that?" she said, earnestly, her chest fluttering at his shy smile.

"Thank you."

"But I didn't recognize the song this time. The first one was by Beethoven, right?"

He nodded, sheepishly scratching his cheek. "Yeah, that was Beethoven. And this one was...by me. I kinda improvised this time."

"I really loved it! It was really something else. And you just made the melody up as you went?" She leaned in close, too curious to care if their faces were almost touching. Besides, she  _liked_ being near him. Not much was left of the snarky, teasing man, but instead he was blushing and blabbering, taken aback by her compliments. If anything, she found this new part of him even more endearing.

They spent the next hour alternating between Soul trying to teach her play, and Soul taking over and playing songs he still remembered or improvising on the spot. Maka liked the improvised songs better. They  _were_ Soul. Dark and brooding with an edge to them, mysterious and distant in a way, but in the most unexpected of moments the melodies would become lighter and flicker with warmth and comfort.

Maka hadn't even realized it when she gave in to the temptation and leaned her head against his shoulder. He hadn't remarked on it; it just came naturally. He was lazily pounding against the keys, his playing noticeably slower and less energetic than before. But when she peeked up at him, he didn't look tired at all. He was smiling, his eyes glazed over, lost in his own world. She really did want to know what he was thinking about, what the piano actually meant to him. In these few hours they'd spent together, it was like she knew him better than she knew herself.

What was she supposed to make of this situation? She had told him things she'd usually tell very close friends, but there was a sense of calm security when she was with Soul. What was she doing being so chummy with someone who was practically a stranger? Granted, an endearingly awkward and charming stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

The tips of her fingers itched with the urge to touch him, to feel the arms that had been taunting her for the entire night beneath layers of jacket and dress shirt. Maka licked her lips, her mind hazy as she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent.

"You know," she began dozily. "You still owe me a dance."

"Oh?" The rough, husky quality of his voice jolted her out of her drowsiness. Leaving the comfort of his shoulder, she craned her neck to look at him, only to be met by the intensity of his eyes. There was something in the red of his irises that flickered, something that made her stomach knot, that made her skin flare with heat.

She nodded, and smiled cheekily. "After all, I didn't dance with Hiro since my next dance was promised to you."

"Of course, how could I forget?" His mouth twitched and he stood up, holding his hand out to her, which she took with a meek blush.

There was no music to dance, but he didn't seem to need any. He pulled her close to his chest, one hand on her hip and the other holding hers in a gentle grip as they began to sway. Her lungs were stuffed, her throat was parched as she tried to keep up with his systematic steps. More often than not, she stumbled against him, and sometimes she might have done it on purpose just to be able to press her hand against his sturdy chest. Would the muscles of his abdomen be very pronounced if he took his shirt off?

She gulped and, unconsciously or not, moved close to him, their chests pressing together, their breaths mingling. He dropped her hand, her heart sinking, but the disappointment was short lived when his arms circled her hips instead. There was no space, no room to breathe, no attempt to dislodge herself from him.

"Did I ever tell you-" he licked his lips, smouldering eyes fixed on her face, "-that this dress-"

"What about it?" Her tongue was clumsy and thick in her mouth as her breaths came out short and flat. Soul regarded her with a gaze that was molten lava, scorching and hot.

"You look stunning."

"Oh?" She smiled, sweet and devilish. "Thank you. But you'd be disappointed when you see me without it."

His hold around her hips tightened, and he breathed into her ear, "I really doubt it." There was a gravelly note to his voice that melted her bones, heat oozing out of him and wrapping around her, before-

What was she saying? Her breath caught in her throat, her face stricken as her mortification painted her face tomato-red.

"I-I-God!" She mashed her face into his chest, letting out a squeak. "I didn't mean to say...that really came out wrong, sorry." The expected teasing never came, instead he laughed, a dark and rich sound that made her toes curl.

"Heh, you kinda surprised me there, I never took you for one to make innuendoes." His mouth pulled into a taunting grin, and even though another wave of heat shot to her brain, it eased the knot in her chest and breathing was manageable again. "What did you mean to say then?"

"That I usually don't look like this." She tugged at her dress. "I prefer shorts and sweaters and yeah, or pencil skirts and blazers for work. I'm actually pretty boring." She risked a brief glance up, a petulant scowl on her face.

He hummed and twirled her around, his hands adept and expert, his movements sleek and natural. "The 'normal' Maka sounds really sexy if you ask me." He was joking of course, playfully nudging her in the ribs as she stumbled a little. Her heart was still doing this ridiculously fast thudding, his palms heating her skin even through the satiny fabric of her dress.

Their eyes never strayed from another, and Maka couldn't remember a time when a man had looked at her with such unveiled adoration, when a man's voice had made her tremble with wobbly knees. She took a shaky breath, and dug her fingers into his shoulder blades. There had to be something wrong with her, or why else would she let him be this close to her, let him treat her with an air of familiarity that she normally reserved for the closest of people around her.

Maka didn't care. What did it matter if this wasn't how she normally operated? Nothing about this felt wrong, regardless of how confusing and puzzling it was. Should she not take this chance? A chance of what? Of having him as physically close as possible? A chance of potential friendship? A chance of something more? Or simply not think about the what-ifs and possibilities and make this night a memorable one. His hands were noticeably lower than they had been when they had started their little dance. Although, it couldn't exactly be called dancing anymore. They were merely swaying from side to side, too entranced by each other to care about anything else.

Everything was perfect.

It was Maka who, in a fit of foolishness or bravery or both, rose to her tiptoes and pressed their lips together. And the switch had been flipped on.

Soul held onto her with a desperation and exuberance she had never witnessed before. His mouth was hot and insistent, their lips slanting together as the fire and fervor and passion became too much to bear, and only touching each other felt like the right solution. She gasped when he pushed her against the piano in a mishmash of discordant tones, making him growl and press their hips together before she impatiently tugged him down to another messy kiss.

She was going to combust, or die of heart failure. Her blood was roaring in her ears and boiling in her veins, suffocating her in heat and fire, and there was nothing she could do but hold on to him for dear life. Her hands ran down his back, his hips, his ass. She squeezed, pinched, groped. She had to touch him everywhere; she would not be sated otherwise. And please, could he touch her, too? Soul groaned into her mouth and thrust his hips between her legs before he kissed down her cheek, traced her jawline with his lips and trailed a path of blazing kisses down the curve of her neck.

"Let's get out of here." He momentarily looked up, his eyes a dark vibrant red, burning with his desire.

Maka didn't even hesitate. "Yeah."

It was then that she took his hand and lead him out of the building, and it was then that he pointed at the hotel across the street. They were both impatient, wound up, and too aroused to take the longer route to their own places. High on their chemistry and drunk on their connection, Maka eagerly led him to the room they booked, her knees wobbly with excitement and need.

The door slammed shut behind them without a care for the world; they didn't even bother locking it before they were all over each other.

* * *

Liz had invited her to this sweet Italian cafe just a few blocks away from her apartment. Maka arrived ten minutes early and took a seat at one of the round tables just outside the cafe since it was too warm to be cooped up inside. She halfheartedly glanced over the menu, skimming over the expensive desserts. Her friend had sounded pretty excited over the phone; it was probably wedding related stuff.

Maka sighed. She really was happy for Liz, but thanks to her encounter with Soul at Tsubaki's wedding, it was hard to remain enthusiastic about it. However, there was no mistaking the blatant love and devotion shining in Liz's eyes whenever she was talking about Wes. Liz had mostly been on casual dates in high school, and had glowered at the boys who believed them to be exclusive after one date. Maka smiled to herself. It had to be a nice feeling to have found someone that made her practically glow with happiness.

After a few minutes, Liz arrived in a formal pencil skirt and fitted blazer. Maka raised her brows.

"Did you also decide to become a lawyer, Liz?" Maka laughed as Liz took a seat across from her, smiling giddly.

"Nope, but I did have an interview!"

"Oh?" Maka clapped her hands together, leaning forward. "How did it go?"

"I got the job! I'm now a propulsion engineer."

Maka grinned. "Sounds really fancy. Congrats, Liz! I'm amazed that you managed to go to so many interviews with how stressed you already are."

"Well, the world doesn't stop because I'm getting married. Urgh Maka, weddings are so expensive." Liz slumped forward with a groan. Maka giggled and patted Liz's head.

"There, there, it'll all work out in the end."

"Maybe we should've just eloped, but Patti would have beheaded me for that. Not to mention Wes' family."

"You can't exactly blame them. They want to be there for their son's big day."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." While Liz relayed to her how nervous she actually was to meet the rest of the Evans family, since some of them were real snobs, even if her in-laws were actually really great, the waiter arrived to take their orders. Maka initially wanted to order just a simple cup of coffee, but managed to be swayed by the delicacies on the menu in spite of the fact that her eyes had only lingered for a few seconds on it.

She couldn't say she regretted it, though, because the chocolate cannoli with ricotta cheese filling and cinnamon was delicious. Liz had kept to a cup of cappuccino though.

"You don't have a date for the wedding, do you?" Liz asked, slurping loudly.

"I...don't. Why?" Maka's eyes narrowed.

Liz shot her that familiar sly grin which had always alerted Maka to any impending trouble. However, she had never been on the receiving end of Liz's troublemaking aside from-

"You want me to set up with someone," Maka stated dryly.

"Hah, well...you know, Wes has a little brother, and I think you'd get along really well. Though you can't walk up the aisle together, since he's the best man and Patti's my maid of honour, but yeah!"

"No thanks." Maka bit into the cannoli, the sweet chocolate melting in her mouth, but even such a splendid taste couldn't ward off her unbidden thoughts and the sourness on the tip of her tongue. She had already hooked up with someone at a wedding, someone she still couldn't get out of her mind, and it was pissing her off. More than once, Maka had felt tempted to tell Liz everything, but she figured as receptive as her friend was to stories like these, she didn't need to hear about Maka's  _heartsickness_  two and a half months before her wedding. Maka wanted Liz to be happy and enjoy herself and look forward to marrying the man she loved, not to agonize with her about her own nonexistent love life

But here Liz was, being Liz, and doing what Liz did well.

"He's really nice, though." Liz stared at her pleadingly, her eyes big and round and impossibly blue. She and Patti were sisters alright.

"No." She coldly held Liz's gaze, flippantly drinking her coffee without breaking their eye contact. Liz could not bully her into her dating shenanigans anymore. Oh no, Maka had had experience with stubborn people thanks to her job and knew not to back down.

Eventually, Liz sighed glaring at her mildly. "Fine. But if you change your mind, say so."

Maka nodded just to appease her friend, but added quietly, "I really don't want to hook up with Wes' brother, Liz."

* * *

As soon as a soft, slow waltz started to play, Soul took her wrist, and her heart sped up with the thought that he was going to dance with her. He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear, and it enraged her how much of an effect that had on her body.

She shivered when he whispered. "Let's get out of here."

"And where would we go?" she hissed back, trying to ward off the blistering feeling of disappointment. She had actually believed he was going to ask her for a dance. Backpedalling on that thought, she wondered why it made her so dejected in the first place. He was definitely attractive, and maybe even nice to talk to, but-

"Let's go somewhere quiet."

Maka wrenched her hand out of his grasp with a bashful stammer. "Are-are you pro-propositioning me?!"

"What! No!" he gasped, blushing a curious shade of red. "Why would you- I mean, no. It's just...I mean so we can talk better… and stuff. Somewhere quiet." He averted his eyes.

"Oh." It was somehow endearing really to see him embarrassed like that, though it didn't help to ease her own mortification. Of all the conclusions she could have jumped to, it had to be  _that one_. She buried her face in her hands, wishing she could just evaporate on the spot.

"So, um, should we go?" He was fidgeting, and all traces of his previous smartassery were gone. She wasn't exactly familiar with this building, so she didn't know where they would be going; nevertheless, she gave a nod, making him grin conspiratorially, his eyes devilish and playful. He looked from left to right, before he grasped a full bottle of wine from the table, indiscreetly covering it with his jacket. She spluttered a few words of protest at how impudent that was of him, and could he please place that bottle back because they didn't need it wherever they were going!

Soul only gave her a rakish smile that made her heart thump against her ribs. "There's enough to drink for everyone, Maka. Not like they'd realize if one bottle was gone."

He was right. It still didn't sit well with her, but he was already standing up and making his way towards the double doors. The nerve of him! Taking her heels in one hand, she quickly followed him, wrestling through dancing bodies and overly drunk guests. Maka's glare was potent enough to melt an iceberg, and for a moment he did appear to be a little unsettled before that brazen smirk of his was back.

"Come on. Live a little," he said, waggling his eyebrows like the ridiculous man he was.

Maka sniffed, and turned her head away. "You have no idea how much I hate that line. If I had a penny for everytime someone said it to me, I would be a millionaire," she muttered broodingly, yet still watched him, expectant and a little content that all traces of smugness were wiped clean from his face. "So? Where should we go?"

"Uuh. Let's see if the other rooms are free." His suggestion sounded like he wasn't sure if other rooms were available at all. Luckily the first door they tried to open was unlocked, and the room in question held crates of empty bottles and unopened boxes. And a piano. Soul looked disgruntled at this, ignoring the majestic instrument with only a passive glance. This room seemed to serve as some sort of storeroom, though she still couldn't explain what a piano was doing here? Had Tsubaki wanted someone to perform tonight? If so, shouldn't it have happened way earlier in the evening?

They weren't far enough from the grande venue to have all the noises blocked out, the faint chattering and the lull of the band's music still reached them, but it would do.

"Are you coming or not?" Soul asked. He was sitting on the wooden flooring that bore no resemblance to the rich Terazzo floors of the ballroom, unafraid of dirtying his pants. Maka left her heels by the bench of the piano and padded over to him, struggling a little with her dress, which was too tight to allow the freedom of movement she wanted as she sat next to him. Her left leg poked out from the generous slit, and Maka was overcome by another wave of embarrassment when she saw him trail his gaze over her bared skin.

Soul's loud gulps alerted her to the fact that yes, they were truly alone now, and suddenly she was feeling oddly lightheaded about this. She watched him hazily drink the expensive wine, her cheeks irrationally heating up at the sight of his Adam's apple. He sighed, content and pleased, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and handed her the bottle, his lips curved teasingly.

She huffed, but took the bottle and made sure to take only one sip.

"That's how you drink? Really? You know you can down the whole thing for all I care; it's not like there's anyone here you need to act prim and proper for."

Maka's eyes narrowed, the chill down her spine hammering the point home that the air around them had shifted. "I'm not trying to be prim and proper. I'm trying not to get drunk."

She had expected him to argue with her like Black*Star would have done- Soul did have a little of that rebellious, devil-may-care attitude from what she could tell- but instead, he hummed and left it at that. Why was she so nervous? Or maybe not nervous because she didn't exactly feel uncomfortable sitting here next to him. What was it then? Expectant? Anticipating? Seconds passed with neither of them saying anything. She squirmed, peeking at him from the corner of her eyes, the bottle still clutched uselessly in her hands.

"I used to play the piano," he suddenly blurted out, and she perked up. The suffocating layer of uneasiness vanished into thin air, and Maka felt herself overcome by excitement.

"Oh, really?" She beamed up at him, her eyes big and wide and very green. Soul averted his gaze, flustered and bashful, but meekly accepted the bottle when she held it out for him. "Can you play now-"

"No!"

Maka's face fell. "Why did you bring it up in the first place then?"

"I was just trying to start a conversation. The silence was kinda getting to me." He unfastened his silky tie from around his neck, her gaze drawn by the movement.

"Oh." Well, in that case, she wasn't going to waste this opportunity to talk to him. "You said you used to play? Why did you stop?"

"It just wasn't my thing," he said, but the thoughtful and contemplative way he regarded the piano made her doubt it somewhat.

Frowning, Maka sighed and hugged her knees to her chest, giving him possibly more than an ample view of her thigh. "I wish I could play an instrument. My mom enrolled me into clarinet lessons when I was young, but I was just so bad at everything that I stopped going there."

He snorted. "Nobody's good in the beginning. You get better the more you play. If you really wanted to play the clarinet, you shouldn't have dropped out of the course." Her frown deepened and she gritted her teeth. As if he had an inkling of how many hours she spent just _trying_ to get it right, but she was too uncoordinated, her fingers clumsy, and after getting out the first few notes of a song, she'd fail.

"It wasn't as easy as you make it sound. I just had no talent for it, unlike you, it seems. I was never good at anything artsy to be honest. I mean, I always passed the classes, but not because I produced anything noteworthy. I was just good at memorizing the theory behind everything."

"Sounds like you were a big nerd." Soul snorted, bumping against her shoulder with his before taking another gulp of the wine.

"I was not! I was just good in school! And liked to read."

"Yeah, like I said, Nerd." She hit him when he snickered, but couldn't maintain her anger for very long. Her puffed-up cheeks and childish pout just made him laugh harder. He ruffled her hair and regarded her fondly, the bright light of the lamp catching oddly in his eyes, radiating his amusement. "I bet you became a librarian or something equally nerdy."

"Hah, no. I am an attorney, thank you very much," Maka said proudly, raising her chin, as he whistled.

"Not bad at all. That's actually pretty badass!" Grinning, lifting the bottle to make a mock toast before he gave it to her. Heat crawled across her cheeks and it couldn't have been because of the wine, which she'd drunk too little of to have any effect on her body. "What kind of lawyer are you?"

"I'm specialized in corporate law… but I did work in a library during college," she added after a few seconds. Soul blinked dumbly, and his mouth curved into a smirk before he was laughing again. He teased her about being such a Bookworm, and she retorted that there was nothing wrong with liking books, so he should stop saying it as if it was a bad thing. How old was he anyway? Thirteen? Maybe he should grow up a little.

His apology seemed genuine enough, though he did add that he was only joking. "Actually, smart girls are really ho- I mean yeah, it's really… cool that you're smart," he finished lamely, an expression of abject horror on his face, and this time it was she who burst out into laughter.

Maka wasn't sure how much time had passed. It could have been just a few minutes from the feeling of it, or more than a few hours. Their conversations covered teasing banter, her job and annoying clients, their respective tastes in music, at which he shamelessly pulled a face when she admitted to liking trance-fusion, and overly meddlesome friends.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Soul grumbled, stretching out his legs in front of him. "It's like mind your own business, but they just don't listen to you."

"Exactly! And it isn't like I'm unhappy like this. Single. And whenever you tell them that, they tell you that they only mean well, and oh, you will end up all alone and become a crazy cat lady. Granted, it's only Black*Star who says it just to be a brat. The others aren't that bad about it.

"Pfft. Lucky for you. My brother is a pain in the ass about it. He's never been one for having long lasting relationships, but then he met this girl, and suddenly he was preaching about true love and whatnot. It's ridiculous."

"We really sound like potential, bitter cat ladies," Maka laughed, her heart light in her chest, because finally she was talking to someone who understood the frustration she felt whenever one of her friends tried to set her up with someone.

"Maybe," Soul scoffed, grinning, "but at least we aren't fooling ourselves. To singledom!" He raised the bottle, and without having anything else to clink against it, she bumped it with her fist, making them chortle at the ridiculousness of it all. She gratefully took the wine after he drank, and true to her words, left it with the barest of a sip and placed it next to her on the floor.

It wasn't long before they were sharing small anecdotes from their childhoods. Which, of course, inevitably led to the topic of her parents, and even though it wasn't something she liked to talk about very much, the days where the mere mention of her mother would make her teary-eyed were long gone. The wine bottle was still standing next to her, half empty and forgotten.

"It's weird that they managed to stay married for thirteen years," she said drowsily, tempted to lean her head against his inviting shoulder. "They had basically nothing in common and they argued a lot, mostly because of my papa's cheating. They tried not to do it in front of me, but-" Maka clenched her fists, "I could still hear them; they weren't as subtle as they thought they were being," she laughed humorlessly. Soul made no comment, and she took that as her cue to go on. "You would think my papa would have mellowed out over the years, but nope. And my mama? I barely saw her at first after the divorce, but we still kept in touch with phone calls and letters and emails. She was really much happier after separating from my dad. It's like nothing good came out of that marriage for either of them."

Maybe she should have reigned at least a little of her bitterness in. She was over the drama of her parents' failed marriage, she really was! Maybe it was the whole being at a wedding thing that made her disdain flare up again. Or the fact that there were so many of the type of men there that reminded her of her father and his philandering antics. Maka might be able to teeth-grindingly tolerate her papa's ways, but that didn't equate to liking it.

"Well, you came out of that relationship of theirs, so I'd say that's more than a good enough reason for them to have hooked up." He was grinning again, and she wasn't sure if he was trying to be funny, but regardless, she could feel it. She was blushing and had to avert her gaze.

"You're just being cheesy now."

"I mean it. You're really cool. Kinda uptight maybe, but still, you're great to talk to, which I can't say for a lot of people."

Despite herself, Maka found herself smiling up at him, her eyes twinkling. "You really think so? Thanks. You're a pretty cool guy yourself."

* * *

The muscles in her legs were burning, the strong bass of techno blaring against her eardrums as she forced herself to keep going. She really was out of shape if she was getting exhausted this quickly. Her once unblemished white sneakers had gotten dusty on the dry dirt path she was running on, her skin glistening with sweat as the afternoon sun beat down on her, even reaching her under the shadows of the trees.

Maybe it hadn't been just his physical attractiveness that had drawn Maka to him. Soul had been respectful of her opinions, understanding her, and never once belittled her. Sure, he had teased her, but it had never been really malicious, and if he felt like he had overstepped a line, he was quick to apologize.

Perhaps it really had been a mistake to leave him like that. She could have at least asked for his last name, but nope, she had set fire to the bridge when she slunk off that morning. And now she had nothing better to do than to act like a teenager with a crush. Or maybe one wedding after another made just made her too sentimental about the whole issue, made her contemplate scenarios of "settling down" with someone. And when Maka - in her most vulnerable hours - actually imagined herself being with someone like that, Soul's face always came to mind. That was usually when she broke her fantasies off, realizing how silly she was being. It had been already four months! And she was still thinking about him, sometimes less and sometimes more, but he always managed to creep into her thoughts whenever she was occupied with something else.

Yet what was there not to think about? They had had a lot of fun, not only between the sheets. If she had given it a chance and had waited just a few minutes longer until he was out of the shower, maybe they could have-

Maka shook her head as a new song came on, this one louder and with more distorted vocals. Perfect.

There was no reason for her to believe that he would have wanted to see her again after their night together. She was just making up dreamy scenarios that were never going to happen and wasting her time. Taking short lungfuls of air, she skidded to a halt, panting heavily as a bead of sweat rolled down her temple. The warped voices in the song hammered against her head, and she was about to skip it when-

"YO MAKA!"

Ah, it hadn't been the song. It was Black*Star all along. She grimaced, and pulled an earbud out.

"Urgh, what is it!"

He harrumphed, his nose raised haughtily. "You're too slow!" He jabbed a finger painfully into her ribs.

"Ouch!" she rubbed the spot with a wince and shot him a scorching glare that did nothing to deter the shit-eating grin from his stupid face. "I told you just to run without me. I'm not going to run as fast as you. Running at my own pace is the point of jogging."

"Tsk. You're just too slow for me; that's why you're saying that." Black*Star crossed his muscled arms over his chest, lifting an eyebrow in challenge.

"No? I'm not trying to build up more muscle like you," Maka scoffed, bracing herself against the rough bark of an oak tree as her heart rate started to slow down. "I'm doing cardio."

Black*Star looked unconvinced, still staring at her with the same smug expression, and it made her fingers curl against the tree. Why had she decided to go running with him again?

"Slow-"

"Black*Star, no-"

He leaned in, hissing slowly, "-poke."

Maka growled out his name, ready to lash out at the dumbass, but he was already a few paces away, cackling like a maniac. Oh no, she was _not_  going to stoop down to his level. Maka Albarn was going to be the bigger person and not let herself be provoked to childish behaviour.

"What is it, Maka. You used to be faster than that. Now you're like a...like a snail!" he laughed, throwing his head back before sprinting forward, leaving a trails of dust in his wake. She stood there for a few seconds, her shoulders shaking with her rage, her heart pumping with renewed vigor. "My mom can run faster than you," he shouted.

"Your mom is in the military, asshole!" she shouted back, and in spite of her vehement attempts not to stoop to his level, she still ran after him. Maka smirked at the surprise on his face when she almost caught up with him.

It proved to be a long day with a long run that left them both lying in the grass, wheezing like dying zombies as the sun was nothing more than a sliver of orange on the horizon. Black*Star had made a stop at the small grocery store before he joined her in lazing around the rest of the afternoon. The Snickers bar he had bought for her as a 'consolation prize' was still clutched in her hands.

Her muscles were going to be so sore in the morning. She glowered into the sky before she glanced at her childhood friend lying next to her with his arms flared out gracelessly. When was the last time Black*Star had been this silent? She should appreciate this few minutes because a silent Black*Star was like the rarest of gems, so she closed her eyes to relish the last rays of the sun.

"Hey." He poked her calf with his foot, making her sigh. So much for silence; she cracked one eye open to look at him only to find him lying on his side, watching her with an absurd squinty expression. "So you doing okay now? And eat your goddamn Snickers."

"Do you really think that's the kind of food I should be eating after a workout?" Her other eye opened as well, puzzled at his attitude. "And what do you mean if I'm doing ok? I'm probably just going to be sore in the morning, but-"

"Pfft, peasant. That's all it takes? We barely ran two laps."

"Shut up, Black*Star," she whined, placing her arm over her eyes. "You know that's not true."

"Yeah, whatever you say. But no, really, Tsubaki told me you met this dude-"

"She told you? Of course, she did," Maka muttered darkly, wrenching her arm off her face to sit up. Black*Star and Tsubaki didn't keep any secrets from each other.

"Don't worry, she didn't tell me anything else. Only that you've met a guy, that's it. And that he's the reason why you weren't at the bouquet toss." He waggled his eyebrows and snorted when she tore out a handful of grass and threw it into his face. "But yeah, looks like that dude-"

"Soul," she corrected, feeling oddly protective of his name.

"Yeah, whatever. Soul was the reason why you've been so emo all the time. Wait? Did you say Soul?"

"Y-yeah?" Her eyes widened as Black*Star sat up as well.

"I think I know him. That name...it sounds familiar."

"You do?!"

"Hmm." He hunched over his bent knees, eyes narrowed. She had never seen him so deep in thought before. Her heart lurched in her chest, and her body was aflame with the hope of finding him after all. Of course, she could have asked Black*Star before, but she hadn't thought he had much of an idea about who was attending the wedding aside from his close friends and immediate family. "Hmmmmm, nope," he said uneasily, scratching the back of his head, before he gave her a wobbly thumbs up. "Sorry, I have no idea who he is."

Maka's hope deflated like a hot air balloon being pierced by a jet. This time, she didn't even bother saying that she didn't care. Staring blankly at the unhealthy, sinful temptation in her hand, she unwrapped it and bit down.

* * *

She could nearly see her own reflection in the polished Terazzo floors. Maka's heels clacked loudly, and she laughed sheepishly when she stepped on Kilik's foot. Despite the grimace he made, he smiled at her, assuring her that it didn't hurt, and continued to- or tried to coax her into- making a few decent dance moves. It had been Kilik with whom Maka had walked down the aisle, as the best man and maid of honour respectively, and she had decided that even if she was a clumsy dancer, she'd share one dance with him at the very least.

Maka hadn't thought she'd feel this giddy and elated at a wedding, but seeing Tsubaki in her wonderful dress, looking radiant and happy with Black*Star at her side, made the happiness contagious, in spite of the stressful weeks that had led up to this moment. Kilik twirled her around, and she was proud when she didn't stumble against his chest when he pulled her back. Another song started, this one a bit faster, and Maka persisted two songs more before she thanked Kilik for the dance, and made her way to her table, fighting back the urge to kick her heels into the wall.

Letting out a sigh, Maka leaned back and stretched her arms over head before she smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress. The venue was really beautiful, the decorations in a nice shade of purple, Tsubaki's favourite colour. She sat like that for a few minutes, observing how the guests danced and laughed and got drunk, and made a face when she saw Black*Star stuffing his face with cake and pastry.

Cake did sound like a nice idea though, especially since Hiro was headed her way. Again. She had politely declined to dance with him because he was the kind of guy who hunted for bridesmaids to get into bed. He might be pleasing to the eyes on a superficial glance, but his intentions shone through obviously enough that Maka used the first opening she got to make a hasty escape. Usually she dealt with such men in a more confrontational manner. However, this was her friend's wedding, and she didn't want the most memorable thing of the evening to be the maid of honour punching a guest.

To the buffet it was!

It was a long stretched table with the wedding cake in the centre, a heaven of cream and marzipan and sugary sculpted flowers. There were smaller vaguely swan-shaped chocolate sculptures, mostly white in colour, decorated with purple camelias, set up like smaller centerpieces next to it. Her mouth was already watering at the sight. Should she first take a slice of the wedding cake? Or maybe have some of those brownies? Oh! Was that strawberry éclair? The tiramisu looked delicious, too! And were those raspberries? With chocolate mousse? She decided to take a little bit of everything on her plate; yes, even a slice of the wedding cake.

"It could be better. Maybe with chocolate."

Huh?

Maka blinked and turned to her left to see one of the guests staring at the marzipan cake with the same critical gaze she had whenever she looked at a client of hers that was subtly trying to convince her to do bullshit for them. Why the hell would he talk about the wedding cake like that? And not in a particularly quiet way either.

"Ah, excuse me?" Maka said, forcing a strained smile on her face. The man didn't even look at her, but made an acknowledging hum, the tip of his forefinger tapping against his chin, his eyes set in a deep frown. Her eyebrow twitched. "Do you really think it is appropriate to talk trash about the wedding cake? It is my friend's wedding, you know."

"Hah?" This time he did look up. Oh, he had a nice face; a strong jawline, slanted deep red eyes, and high cheek bones. He regarded her for a moment with an unreadable blank glance, "No, not this cake," he said, waving a dismissive hand into the direction of said cake, and broke their eye contact. "It's alright, I guess."

"I still need to take a bite." And she did. "Alright? This is amazing!" She moaned at the taste when she licked off the residue cream from the fork. He was regarding her with a peculiar look she couldn't quite read.

"You really think so?" he asked, curious and somewhat eager. She blinked down at him, the tip of the fork still in her mouth, and nodded.

"Yeah, it's really great. So you have no reason at all to talk like that about the cake!" she said smugly and sat down on the chair next to him, feeling a little embarrassed at her full plate. It didn't last long though, because the pastries were more tempting than the fear of making a gluttonous impression on some stranger.

"So, um, what do you think of the other stuff?" He scratched his cheek, looking perhaps a little bashful, though she didn't understand why. Her eyes narrowed. Was he trying to hit on her? "Did you try the lemon tart yet?"

"Umm."

"It's that one...in case you don't know," he mumbled and pointed at the cake that was topped with a small spiral of meringue.

"I know what lemon tart looks like," Maka said, a little huffish, and despite her confusion about his intentions, she took a bite from it. Her eyes lit up. The potent jolt of lemon, the silky cream filling that melted on her tongue, everything was perfect. It wasn't too sour, nor too sweet, the taste a perfect balance in between. "Mmm. Delicious!"

His lips quirked almost like a smile, but not quite. He moved his chair closer to hers. What was he doing? Her brows furrowed.

"So, um, is it any good?"

"Yeah?" she answered, her voice uncertain. "It's...great."

"Then you should also take a bite from the Napoleon."

Maka choked on her spit. "What?!" She had been hit on a number of times this evening, but none of them had been this...weird? The others had lacked all subtlety when they tried to flirt with her, but this man...what the hell? Napoleon? Was that supposed to be an innuendo? Or maybe she was starting to read too much into what he was saying, and who would use a man that was notoriously short in a sexual context? After she had been hit on often enough with thinly veiled flirtations and innuendoes, she was starting to be wary of everyone who was male and talked to her.

"The...Napoleon, or wait," he sighed, dismayed. "The vanilla slice. That's what I mean. I guess that's what _you_  would know it as."

"Oh. Oh! You meant the cake," she laughed awkwardly, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

"Yeah, what else?"

"Wh-what should I know? I only know the historical figure Napoleon Bonaparte, not a cake also called Napoleon." He chuckled as he moved even closer, propping his elbow on the table to rest his cheek against a fist.

"Go ahead, give it a try," he said.

Maka watched him dubiously, unsure how to proceed. He really was an odd guy. He certainly had a weird way of flirting, but he didn't emit this aura of total sleaziness unlike some others; he actually seemed like a total dork...trying to hit on her via pastries. She bit back a smile.

"Okay."

And that was how she passed her time, eating and munching on the cakes and sweets he suggested. She preferred the fruitier stuff with lots of cream, whereas he seemed to like the kind of cake that was rather simple and sweet. They ended up arguing about what tasted better: dark chocolate or white chocolate. He sniffed at her preference for the latter, stating the dark chocolate was richer in taste, and that it truly tasted like chocolate, and even offered health benefits. She blinked at that.

"Oh my God, you're so pretentious," she snorted, muffling her laughter in her hand.

"No, I'm just stating facts," he hissed, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. "It's not my problem that you prefer chocolate that doesn't taste like chocolate. It's got nothing to do with being 'pretentious'"

Maka's mouth curved into a sugary sweet smile. "Nope, you're kinda pretentious."

He growled lowly and muttered something about some people having bad taste, which just made her laugh out loud until her shoulders were shaking. He had the most hilarious pouty face ever; it had eerie comparisons with the frowny-face emoticon, but she didn't tell him that.

"I'm-" she began in high spirits, but then there was a insolent finger tapping her on the bare shoulder. Her spine tensed up and she craned her neck to see Hiro staring down at her with the same obnoxious smarmy smile he had been wearing the whole evening.

"Hey Maka, I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me," he asked, his voice carefully polite, as he smiled with false meekness.

"No." His face fell, and Maka couldn't be sure, but she heard someone chuckling, and she wished she could take it back. Well, not the general answer in itself, but perhaps express it a bit more civilly, even if she was kind of pissed at Hiro for barging into a conversation she was enjoying.

"Aw, why? I was really looking forward actually," Hiro whined, and okay, forget it. She was too nice for feeling bad for rejecting him. This boy was a total idiot.

"I really can't dance right now, sorry," she replied with a twitchy eye, hoping he would get the hint now. She bit back a groan when he pulled an offended face, his mouth opening for another round of whining.

"But Maka-"

"Sorry dude, she can't dance with you because she promised the next dance to me." Maka's eyes snapped to the red-eyed man, surprised and grateful. He gave her a half-smile before he turned his intimidating gaze to a dumbstruck Hiro. "So yeah, goodbye and have a nice life."

"Ah, oh, well okay. Maybe next time then," Hiro mumbled, forcing on a smile that was a far cry from the charming tilt of his mouth that had graced his face in the beginning of the conversation. He clenched his fists and looked at her again, pleading. She sighed and rubbed her temple.

"Sorry, Hiro," Maka said, her voice dry, not giving a damn about politeness. "A promise is a promise." He opened his mouth again, undeterred by her obvious glare, and her fist was already twitching on the table, but then his lips snapped shut, crystal blue eyes fearfully directed at the other man. With that Hiro left without a goodbye and vanished into the masses. Maka let out the agitated breath she had been holding.

"Thank you." She turned to the man again with a smile

"Yeah, no worries. He was starting to piss me off, too. You said you don't want to and he was still whining like a baby." He glowered into the general direction of where Hiro had gone to and raked a hand through his messy white hair, tousling it more. A few strands fell appealingly over his smouldering eyes, and Maka had to shake her head to erase that thought from her mind.

"Heh, yeah, that's the perfect comparison actually. Usually people leave me alone, but I guess this is what happens when you're a bridesmaid...or the maid of honour."

"Nah, believe me, it's not just because you're the maid of honour."

"Huh?"

"I mean...just look at you." A pale pink hue appeared on his cheeks as he did his best to look everywhere but at her, studying his polished shoes, or checking his cufflinks.

A soft genuine smile blossomed on Maka's face as she blushed a pretty shade of red. She did look nice today in her purple dress with her hair in an elegant low side bun. Self-consciously, she brushed a few stray bangs behind her ear, the move coy.

"Thanks again, um-" she sought out his eyes, her head tilting to the side, questioning.

He smiled, lopsided and uneasy and all sharp teeth, and held his hand out. "The name is Soul."

Tentatively, she reached and grasped his hand; it was strong and warm and easily enveloped hers. "Nice to meet you. I'm Maka."

* * *

Red velvet cake sounded like a good idea at the moment, her mouth watering at the mental image of layers of chocolate and cream and a nice cream cheese topping. Or maybe she should get one with cooked roux icing. Both were delicious options.

She was out of the office at 2pm and it was supposed to be her lazy afternoon, lounging around in her comfortable shorts and most shapeless sweater in her apartment. Maybe even watch a movie while she was at it. She still had to fetch her bridesmaid's dress from the seamstress. The skirt of it had to be shortened a few inches so she wouldn't stumble over her own feet at the wedding. However she'd get the dress tomorrow or on Monday maybe, but not any later since there was only a month left to the wedding.

Maka was in uncharacteristically high spirits since the week started, and slowly but surely the night she had spent with Soul was starting to dim in her memories. It wasn't completely gone from her mind, and she didn't think it would leave her completely alone until perhaps after Liz's wedding, but Maka was optimistic that it wouldn't forever leave her forlornly sighing whenever her thoughts drifted off. Immersing herself in her work and meeting with her friends also helped her to take her mind off of him, but there was still a small - or maybe not that small - part of her that feared these stupid imagined what-if scenarios would never go away.

Whatever. There was still a cake she had to eat.

Then her phone rang.

"Yes Liz?"

"Hey Maka! I just wanted to say that I'm coming over, I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Uuh, what?"

"Wes is coming with me. 'kay, bye!"

And she hung up, leaving Maka standing there like an idiot with her phone still clutched to her ear, too confused to decide if she should feel enraged or excited that she was finally going to meet the future husband of her friend. Liz had always wanted her to meet Wes, but their schedules had never coincided to arrange such a meeting, and Liz apparently thought the best course of action would be to call Maka ten minutes in advance before she arrived with her fiancé in tow.

Pushing thoughts of exquisite cakes aside, Maka looked to see if there was anything untidy in the living room. She picked up her favourite hoodie she had slung over the backrest of a chair in the small dining corner, folded it neatly before she placed it into the closet in her bedroom, and made sure to wipe the mirror in the bathroom clean.

It wasn't long before her doorbell rang and she was welcoming Liz into her apartment, too engrossed in the usual social pleasantries of How Are Yous and How Was Your Days before she could properly greet Wes. She turned around and-

-the ground beneath her feet almost vanished. She steadied herself clumsily against the wall as the sheer panic in her marrow threatened to overwhelm all her senses and she could only stare at...at this watered-down apparition of Soul with an open mouth unable to contain her bewilderment.

Oh please no, it couldn't be! Ah, but he was not Soul! He-he looked a little different! But resembled him uncannily enough to be a near carbon copy of the man she had met at Tsubaki's wedding.

"I'm glad we finally get to meet each other. Liz has told me so much about you," he said, reaching out with his hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that unsettlingly familiar way with his smile. This man's voice was of a slightly higher pitch, not as smooth and deep and silky like Soul's. Maka shook his hand mutely and pressed her lips together, banishing the horrifying and unlikely scenarios of Soul having a double identity to the recesses of her mind that were reserved for the few conspiracy theories she had ever entertained in life.

"M-maka. Pleasure to meet you." She forced a stiff smile on her face, motioning with her hand to the living room as they followed her inside. "Please, have a seat." The moment they were seated, she quickly excused herself into the kitchen to prepare snacks and coffee, her fists clenched at her sides as she glowered at the coffee machine sitting innocuously on the counter.

So this was Wes. And he looked like Soul. Too much like Soul for it to be a weird coincidence. Soul had mentioned a brother. Liz had mentioned Wes' little brother. Liz had mentioned her desire to have Maka form a bond with said younger brother of Wes.

_I really don't want to hook up with Wes' brother, Liz_ , her voice mockingly echoed back at her in her brain. Maka gritted her teeth, forcefully tearing the cupboard open before she grabbed three cups and put them onto a tray with a huff, her eye twitching as she swallowed down the acidic wave of indignation that threatened to bubble out of her mouth in a crescendo of screams and curses declarations of unfairness.

She could have avoided  _months_  of ridiculous pining and nights of lying awake in bed tempted to listen to dumb melancholic love songs because of a man! Just a tiny word to Liz and everything could have been settled, but nope, she didn't want to bother her friend. She could have just asked for the name of Wes' younger brother whenever Liz mentioned him, but nope, she didn't want to hook up with that brother. A bitter chuckle burst out of her mouth before she clamped her hand against her mouth, staring at the door with trepidation. She really didn't need Liz and Wes to think that she was crazy.

Heaving a sigh, Maka filled the cups with coffee, placing the sugar and cream next to them on the tray as she went back to Wes and Liz, her stomach in tiny queasy knots. Her smile was unabashedly fake, yet Maka still sat down primly, initiating the social pleasantries that were expected, even if her body was screaming at her to ask- no,  _demand_ Soul's whereabouts.

Maka's hand rose to her mouth like the robotic limb of a puppet as she drank from her coffee. "So how did you two meet?"

Wes' maroon eyes lit up like Christmas candles and the brightness of his smile might have rivaled the accumulation of a thousand suns as he tenderly touched Liz's arm. Maka bit back a snort. He was nothing like Soul.

"I was in London for a concert and-"

As Wes described a perfect scenario out of a romantic comedy, Maka's attention began to slip, much to her dismay. Her eyes fixed on somewhere close to Wes' jaw, she gripped her knees, her left leg twitching. She pressed her lips tightly together. Where was Soul? Soul's brother was right in front of her! Hell, just one question and she'd know where to find the man whose presence she had been craving for months. But she couldn't just come out with the questions. Maka frowned. She needed to be discrete; maybe just ask about Wes' family and make the casual comment that they probably were really excited about the wedding, oh, and Liz had told her about his little brother as the best man! He surely was very happy for his brother.

" _He's never been one for having long lasting relationships, but then he met this girl, and suddenly he was preaching about true love and whatnot. It's ridiculous"_ Maka remembered his words clearly, but it didn't matter that she knew how Soul felt about the whole wedding right now.

"-and that's how Liz asked me out on a date! She's really amazing," Wes finished happily before he pressed a kiss against her friend's cheek. Maka schooled her face into a neutral expression just in time when he pulled back and regarded Liz with loving eyes and said with a lowered gentle voice in which others might have called their love  _sweetheart_ , "My Thug."

The coffee got stuck in her throat as she coughed and nearly spat everything onto her lap. Maka cringed, pressing her palm against her throat as she let out one final raspy cough. Liz leaned forward to clap her on the back a few times, stuck between worry and amusement as she barely tried to contain her laughter. Wes' eyes were twinkling with mischief, so similar to his brother's that Maka needed a few seconds longer to catch her breath.

"It's quite the unorthodox pet name, isn't it?" he asked, his head tilting to the side as he smiled charmingly. Maka's own lips curved at this more easily this time, and maybe she should appreciate Wes Evans' attempts at getting her wavering attention in this manner more.

"Pretty much. Does it mean that…" Maka looked uncertainly at Liz, who gave her a brief nod free of any reservations. "That you know of Liz's...uh, rebellious years?"

He was all smiles and pearly white teeth and it was Liz who replied, "Yes, I told him everything."

Maka's shoulders relaxed, and for the briefest moment Soul was not on her mind, even if a near carbon copy of him appearance wise was sitting right in front of her. Liz's cheeks were tinted a rosy pink, her gaze fixed on Wes as they relayed the story of how she came to tell him of her criminal years on the streets as she tried to take care of her sister.

"If anything-" he said, dramatically spreading his arm in an arc to the right. "It made me admire her more because she sacrificed so much for her little sister and wasn't given much of a choice from what I understand. And look where she is now!" He grinned at Liz who grinned back and either they were going to wrap their arms around each other and start making out Maka's couch or-

-high five each other as they did now.

"Oh yes, I'm great," Liz laughed.

Maka hid her chortling behind her hand. They were perfect for each other alright.

Liz turned back to look at her, waving her hands excitedly around. "It's the one thing that made us bond actually; having younger siblings, because other than that our lives don't have much in common." She rubbed a hand down her arm.

"Speaking of which-" Wes looked down at his watch. "I need to talk to Soul today." Maka's heart gave a vicious clench, her world tilting backwards as her body was clutched by trepidation. She took a shuddering breath, the question burning on the tip of her tongue, her heart palpitating to an impossible rhythm.

"I hope everything's alright," Liz muttered, eyebrow twitching. "I really don't want to stress about the one thing that hasn't given me any stress yet."

"No, nothing's wrong." He patted Liz on the knee. "He just wanted to have my opinion on the white chocolate cake he was also making. The wedding cake and everything else have been settled, no worries."

We-wedding cake? White chocolate cake? Cake? The wedding cake!

Of course!

His extensive knowledge of pastries!

His critical observation of the wedding cake!

Him being not on the guest list in any shape or form!

Tsubaki not remembering a person with such a peculiar name as Soul!

Maka stood up, the cups on the table rattling with the swift movement, her back ramrod straight as Liz and Wes watched her with flabberghasted expressions.

"He made the cake!" Maka announced more to herself than to them.  _And he delivered it_. She studied her hands, looked at Liz and then at Wes, whose grip on Liz's knee tightened the slightest bit. "I need you to tell me where I can find Soul."

* * *

After Maka had assured Wes with Liz's resilient if bemused support that she was not a crazy stalker or serial killer or secret agent working for an evil nebulous corporation, Wes had scribbled the address on a pink post-it Maka had fetched from her room. Of course, they had both demanded an explanation about her ties with Soul and she had left it with a watered down version of the original tale.

" _We got along really well on Tsubaki's wedding, but I forgot to ask for his number."_

Liz had given her that  _look_ , and Maka knew she'd have to tell her friend the complete story. But she was ready to do so if it meant being able to see Soul soon. Maka thunked her head against the window of the cab, sighing heavily, her breath making the glass fog up. They had been stuck in the traffic for what felt like hours. She drummed her fingers against her thighs, biting her tongue before she asked the bored driver with the ponytail and sunglasses pushed up his head when they could move forward again.

She was going to see Soul again! Her lips curved into a smile before she was frowning again. What if he didn't want to see her again? What if he wasn't happy to see her? What if he really thought she was some crazy stalker? She shook her head and clenched her eyes shut, rubbing her forehead. She had not imagined that crazy connection between them. She would not have slept with him if she hadn't felt this _something_  that gave her the jitters because it veered into the direction of things Maka didn't particularly believe in. Stupid ridiculous things like love at first sight, eternal love, soulmates. She grimaced.

Maka wasn't in love with him. But - her heart leapt in her chest - there was the tiny chance that she might actually come to love him if they did give each other a chance. It was a flawed logic, something that was so unlike her, Maka "Corporate Attorney" Albarn. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she absentmindedly eyed the sleek red Porsche waiting in front of the red light to turn left. And it could go all to hell for all she knew, and right now it felt like she knew absolutely nothing.

The cab waited fifteen minutes before it could pass the traffic light, and by that point Maka had already started drumming her fingers against her knees, a melody he would have scoffed at and teased her for being so off-key. Heat crawled over her cheeks as she tried not to smile. The stoic driver was already looking at her as if he might be considering to drop her off early and she really didn't need any more drawbacks. Five minutes later, with her heart firmly planted somewhere high up her throat and with her lungs clogged up, Maka paid the driver hazily, giving him a generous tip. Really, he had put up with her barely concealed squealing and fretting and blushing without batting an eye. He deserved it. She bid him goodbye and he gave her a small nod before he pulled his sunglasses over his eyes and drove off.

_Pâtisserie Lune de Miel_

The letters were styled in an elegantly curved, red font, no fancy additions of gaudy pictures of cakes and pastries marring the sign above the front door. She took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her, her legs heavy, her feet frozen on the ground. She could still turn back. She bit her lip.

But she wouldn't. So what if he might reject her? It would be just a little awkward at Liz's wedding, but she could deal with that. And maybe her heart that had been dumbly vying for him a lot the past few weeks would be crushed, but even that she would be able to deal with; just pick up the crumbles of the shattered organ and put them together one by one.

Okay. She squared her shoulders and clenched her fists, eyes set, and stepped forward. It was time to rebuild that burned bridge between them, at least if he allowed it to happen. A wave of warmth and the delicious smell of chocolate permeated the air, welcoming her. The floor was like polished rock, everything was spotlessly clean, the little pastries, cakes and cupcakes behind the counter set up with meticulous detail. Starting with two rows of cupcakes with red frosting, sometimes decorated with strawberries and raspberries, the following rows behind the counter were a colourful array continuing with yellows and pinks and blues and lavenders; some of them with plain frosting, some of them decorated with rose-shaped cream, whereas other cupcakes were designed with more detail, tiny flowers and pearls embedded within their frosting. Maka sucked in a breath.

And Soul-

She made a garbled sound that got stuck in her throat, her breathing flat and short, her cheeks burning. He was there humming a jazzy tune under his breath, a cupcake in his hand as he lovingly applied the yellow frosting with a brush, the tip of his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth and-

Maka bit back another embarrassing noise, her mouth a thin line as she studied him, entranced and fascinated.

Soul was clad in a chef's uniform, the toque sitting lopsided on top of his mussy hair. Her fingers twitched, her eyes flitting up and down his body. He looked adorable! And he hadn't even noticed the door opening or her presence in his bakery yet. He smiled when he seemed to finally be satisfied with his work and placed the cupcake into its designated place next to one with pink frosting. She fidgeted, her sneakers squeaking against the floor as she shifted and his head shot up to her.

"Welcome, how can I-  _Maka?!_ "

"Hey Soul," she mumbled demurely, her hands folded behind her back. There was a little bit of frosting on his chin, but she didn't point this out because how weird would that be? Almost as weird as tracking down her one-night stand after almost six months by a lot of lucky coincidences. Laughter bubbled up in her mouth but before any noise could escape her, she caught herself. She didn't need to make this reunion any more freaky by dissolving into badly timed laughter.

She had not prepared her words, had just mindlessly rushed in here and now- oh God, he was right here! The man she had been hung up about for such an unnecessary amount of time, the man who had invaded her dreams with his dorky charm, his gentle red eyes, his passion-laced voice in the bedroom. She gulped loudly.

He rounded behind the counter and came to stand right in front of her, his hands raised at his sides, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. He didn't say anything and the silence between them stretched on, both of them taking the other in wondrously. Maka shifted from foot to foot self-consciously. Perhaps she should have put on a different set of clothes before she came here; her shorts and ratty sweater weren't exactly flattering.

He licked his lips, something her eyes followed faithfully and made her rub her arm because she could already feel goose bump forming beneath the fabric of the sweater.

"I really wasn't expecting to see you again," he finally said, and added with a tentative smile, "least of all here."

"My friend is getting married to your brother," she blurted out as if that explained everything, and maybe it did.

"What? You're friends with Liz?" His eyes widened, before they clouded over. He clenched a fist, looked down to the toes of his shoes. Maka moved her mouth, tried to make her tongue cooperate because the literal man of her dreams was standing right in front of her! But then his gaze shot up to hers again, red and intense as her heart skipped a beat. "I… I-" he began, pausing with a laugh, "I thought about finding you again. Trying to at least. I thought about calling that weird groom with the blue hair from the wedding to ask about you...maybe-" his eyes were on the ground again "-but I didn't think you'd want to be found after you left. Not to mention it seemed a little creepy to do-" he chuckled again, "-and it's weird, you know, we've known each other for only what? Six hours? And...and I don't even know what I'm saying!" He brought his hands up and buried his face into his palms, letting out a pained groan.

Maka's heart was soaring with warmth as she giggled a little, her eyes alight with relief as he peeked at her from between the cracks of his fingers. "It's okay," she said, taking a step towards him. "That's exactly what I've been thinking. I was afraid that you wouldn't want to see me again." He let his hands drop to his sides again.

"Yeah, that's what I thought after you left without a goodbye or anything."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no don't be. I mean it was stupid of me to feel upset in the first place," he admitted. "You didn''t owe me anything, and everything was weird enough anyway."

"I… guess so." She bit her lip and balanced her weight on the soles of her feet. "Sooooo-"

"Um," he trailed off, scratching the side of his face, eyes anxious. "I'd really like to, uh, maybe take you on a date... if you want, that is."

She took another step towards him, his warmth oozing out of him in waves, enveloping her, lulling her into the same sense of comfort she had felt when she had first been with him. This was right. This  _felt_ right. Her hand reached out to his face, her fingertips wiping away the residue of frosting from his chin as his breath caught in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"I'd like that. Very much," she whispered, her nerves fizzing with heat when he touched her elbow, brought her even closer to him, his eyes slanted and heavy-lidded. He grinned rakishly.

"Cool."

She snorted, her lungs melting in her chest as the air escaped out of her nose and he cradled her face with his big hands, long fingers stroking over her cheeks before he dipped his head lower and their lips connected. Maka shuddered against the kiss, her arms winding around his neck, their chests molding together, his body strong and warm and sturdy. Her eyes slid shut, their tongues met and she held him closer, while fireworks exploded behind her eyelids and her mind tried to comprehend that she had indeed found the man that had taken her breath away all those months ago. The man who had charmed his way into her heart with his weird sense of humour and his calming presence and insightful conversations, the man who hadn't left her thoughts and dreams, the smell of his skin, the sensation of his lips, his firm muscles constant echoes within her mind.

Soul moved his hand to her hip, pressing her impossibly close, while his other hand remained at her cheek, angling her to his liking before they pulled apart, faces flushed, and he smiled tenderly, nuzzling her nose. Her mouth quirked up, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his head and-

Her phone went off.

_He-Man, He-Man, He-Man~_

She squeaked, ripping the phone out of the narrow pocket of her shorts, cheeks blazing with the feverish force of her blush as Soul laughed softly. Accidentally she enabled the loudspeaker and before she could fix her mistake and tell Black*Star to stop messing with her ringtones all the time, he was already blathering around, his voice shrill and loud: "HEY MAKA! I finally remember who this Soul dude is you've been pining about like that chick did over that sparkly vampire-" she blanched, "-he's the baker guy! Your Romeo made the wedding cake and I don't really remember where his bakery was but yeah, I hope I could help. You can thank me later when you're done moping. Rise and shine like a peon from the ashes," he cackled loudly as if he had said something clever before the line went silent with a _beep_.

They stood there, frozen and gobsmacked and Maka was contemplating different ways to inflict pain upon Black*Star but-

"I told THAT BLUE MONKEY A HUNDRED TIMES THAT I AM A PÂTISSIER!" Soul shouted, making her jump and flinch, before she slid her phone into the narrow back pocket of her shorts." I'm not a baker, goddamnit! I actually got my education in France and this is a legitimate pâtisserie!" He wrenched the toque off his head, his hair as wild as his eyes, and flailed with his arms, his nostrils flaring. For a brief moment, she thought he was going to throw his hat onto the ground and start stomping on it, too, but then he went silent, his gaze flickering nervously back at her as he seemed to realize that she was still standing there and had been witness to his epic temper tantrum.

He held his hands up morosely. "I'm usually not like this, I swear."

Maka shrugged, her smile mischievous, her eyes glinting. "Really? I kind of do recall that you were pretty pretentious at the wedding, too. What was it again? The health benefits of dark chocolate and that's why it's superior to white chocolate?" She was mostly glad to distract him from the embarrassing bit of truth Black*Star had inadvertently revealed.

"Dark chocolate really is the better pick. There's no way to argue against that and still make sense.  _Aaaanyway_. What was that about you pining after me like that chick from-"

"Shut up!"

He grinned teasingly and pulled her back against his chest, whispering quietly against her temple how he had never been able to stop thinking about her, how she had been everywhere, her voice, her face, her eyes! How he regretted ever taking that shower in the morning and missing her leave, unable to say goodbye or ask her if she'd like to see him again sometime. It had been driving him crazy, the what-ifs and whatnots and the could-have-beens, but now she was here! And he still couldn't believe it.

Soul squeezed her shoulder and her heart stuttered in her chest, the breath she took rattling her ribcage. His mouth was against the shell of her ear as her fingers dug into his chest.

"I've been hung up on you really bad,  _Maka_."

* * *

They decided to take it slow. Even if they had a very unconventional start as a couple and had bonded strongly the first time they met, they were intent on getting to know each other first and foremost. In the one month they had been on dates, they mostly talked, their conversations rife with banter and teasing and stories. And when the date for Liz's wedding was there, it felt like she was attending it with her boyfriend of ten years instead of a man she had known only for a few weeks at most.

Soul looked as impeccable as ever in his suit, despite his bored lazy eyes as he watched his brother and Liz dance. Wes leaned in and whispered something into his newly wedded wife's ear that made her turn her head away a little and giggle. Maka sighed, smiling happily. This wedding was an even bigger event than Tsubaki's had been, but there hadn't been really a way around this extravaganza when it was the eldest Evans brother who was getting married. However, Wes had managed to put his foot down and ban press and reporters from his wedding.

"Liz looks really beautiful," Maka whispered dreamily. The light of the ballroom caught in the tiny beads of Liz's bodice, the skirt of it tight and snug against her hips before it flared out down her knees and shins. The diamond necklace nestled between the dip of her collarbones sparkled brightly, almost as much as the subtle white gold wedding band on her ring finger or the smile that was stretched widely across Liz's face.

"I guess she does. Would suck if she didn't, being the bride and all."

She pouted. "You know you could sound a little more enthusiastic about it."

Soul gave her a look. "I didn't think you of all people would like it if I said how hot my _sister-in-law_ looked."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

He cracked a grin, his eyes vibrant with mischief as he tilted his head forward and she was sure that he was going to kiss her, but her throat was clogged with disappointment when he just whispered a lousy joke against her ear. For the few weeks they had been dating and had agreed they would be taking it slow, Soul had staunchly stood by it. She couldn't exactly fault him for not being more forward, for adhering so strictly to what they had agreed upon, but they hadn't even kissed since their reunion at his  _pâttisserie_ , and Maka had found herself waking up in the middle of the night sweaty and hot, the image of his mouth between her legs branded into her eyelids. After everything that had happened, it felt a little silly not allowing herself to be more physical with him.

Well, at least he had asked her to dance this time around in spite of his self-consciousness, even giving her a charming bow as they had been able to hear the cooing of his teenage cousins - Maggie, Maddy and Holly - from the table next to theirs. Even though her dancing had been only marginally better than last time, she had enjoyed herself immensely, especially after walking up that aisle not with him but a stranger and seeing him arm in arm with someone that was not her. Patti was the maid of honour after all.

"I'm glad they're done with it. You have no idea how annoying Wes was about the whole thing," Soul muttered and reached out for the bottle of wine to pour it into his glass. He took a sip and swirled the glass in his hand, pensively watching the red liquid stir with the movement.

"You mean he was nervous," she said dryly. "It makes sense, though. He  _is_  getting married to the woman he loves. I bet you would be even worse in that moment."

Soul's eyes narrowed and his hand stilled as he looked over at her. Heat blazed across her cheeks, even though what she had said wasn't that outrageous, but everything she had experienced with this man was novel, so she had ceased being surprised at the reactions that her body had because of him.

"Nah, I'd be really cool about it." He grinned his ridiculous grin. She snorted.

"Yeah sure, you're totally Mr. Smooth."

He glowered before the lines between his eyebrows smoothed over and he leaned in, his breath feathering her cheek, her ear, making her shudder. "I was smooth enough to get you into bed," he said huskily, his hand brushing against her knee, and Maka was going to let him do even more but then his hand stilled, his back went rigid and he swallowed loudly. The legs of his chair squeaked, jarring and loud and cutting into her eardrums, when he pulled away, his eyes wide and appalled.

"I'm so sorry. That was so uncalled for-"

"Pfft. Look at you being real smooth, Rico Suave," Maka laughed, absently running her hand against the spot where his hand had just been on her knee.

"Just trying to be a gentleman… and referencing  _that night_  is hardly taking it slow," he grumbled, frowning.

She licked her lips, crossing her legs, the flowy skirt of her black dress sliding over her skin pleasantly. "You know," she began, squirming in her seat. "I'm okay if we don't go on about this that slowly."

He blinked, cocking his head to the side. "Uh."

"I mean sure we both agreed on taking it slow, but I would be totally fine with it if you kissed me." She held his gaze levelly as the wide doe-eyed look vanished and the colour of his eyes became darker, a deep red fog swirling within their depths that beckoned her.

"Right now?" he asked, his voice a rumble that came from deep within his throat.

"What?"

"Do you want me to kiss you right now, Maka?"

Her chest fluttered, her skin burning with desire. "Yes please."

It was their first kiss since that day in his shop, and it may as well have been their very first kiss, because there was nothing not sensational about feeling his lips against hers, warm and hot, slanting leisurely against her mouth as his hand shyly traced her jaw. Her fingers trembled against his wrists when they pulled away with hazy eyes. Their hands intertwined with the next kiss, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. A third kiss followed. And a fourth. A Fifth. His hand ran down her bare arm, relishing in her sharp intake of breath as she pressed against him, her fingertips ghosting over his strong jawline. Kisses six and seven lead them to decide that such a classy wedding reception was hardly the proper place to suck faces like this, especially not when Soul's Aunt Rosemary was giving them aghast looks and Soul's cousins were unsubtly giggling and pointing at them.

Discretion was not a thing that was on their minds as he took her hand and lead them outside the huge ballroom, the startled gasps of Maggie, Maddy and Holly following them. The black flats that had long ago replaced her high heels were quiet against the floor as he pulled her into one of the adjacent rooms in the vast corridor with the sparkling chandeliers, and attached his mouth to her shoulder the moment the door shut behind them. She didn't even take the time to register what kind of room they had ended up in, but it was clean and empty, and that was enough. Wasting no time, Maka clawed at his tie as they hurriedly proceeded to discard their fancy clothes.

She hissed when her back was pressed against the cold wall. He leered down at her chest, his smirk wide and lecherous as he palmed her breasts through the sequined top of her dress. It was a pretty thing as was expected from Liz; it left the little chest she had very much on display with its generous cut and left her back mostly bare, but Maka didn't really mind right now as he easily pulled the straps down her arms and his calloused hands were on her warm soft flesh. Her head tilted to the side as his tongue traced up her neck and her blood was boiling in her veins, her skin on fire as she attacked the buttons of his shirt impatiently.

It occurred to her that they were still at Liz's wedding and that Liz, unlike Tsubaki, would kill her if she missed the bouquet toss. Sucking in a deep breath, Maka made quick work of Soul's jacket and shirt, tugged at his belt just as he took her nipple into his hot mouth, making her sigh, despite the hastiness singing in her veins. He tossed her a self-satisfied smile.

"You're really eager, aren't you?" he asked throatily, hands fumbling with the button on his pants. The answer she gave him was her hand running down his chest, her nails scraping against firm wiry muscles, making him tremble.

"We need to hurry." He silenced her sharp breath with a kiss, his tongue insistent against hers as he mapped out her modest curves with his hands, his long tan fingers digging into her waist before she was turned around, steadying herself against the wall with her hands.

"Careful!" she gasped as he pulled the skirt of her dress over her hips, his hands frantic and eager in their exploration, and he exhaled loudly when he made contact with the lacy top of her stockings. She licked her dry lips, throwing him a heady look over her shoulder, mouth quirking into a sultry smile that made him halt all his movements for a second. Maybe she had thought they might end up like this, not necessarily at the wedding, but almost certainly after, and maybe that was why she had decided to buy a new set of lingerie. His eyes were an intense burgundy, making the flutters in her belly flare. Soul clutched her hips and ground against her from behind as she pressed her back against his strong chest, his hard-on rubbing against her butt. His hands trailed up her waist to cup her breasts, to pull at her nipples. Maka sighed, too rapt in the pleasure of Soul's touch to care about the state of her poor dress; most of the fabric was gathered around her hips now. Hopefully it wouldn't be too crinkled once they had to be presentable for the guests again.

She felt the fabric of his pants glide against the skin of her thighs as he pulled them down, letting them pool at his ankles in a heap of black as his boxers followed suit. They shared a moan as he bucked aimlessly against her before he pulled her sheer black panties down. Her teeth clamped down onto her bottom lip as she braced herself against the wall when he rubbed his thumbs against her hipbones, her arms prickling with goose bumps, the anticipation in her heart bursting through her blood vessels.

" _Haah,_ Soul!"

He groaned against her neck as he slid inside of her and she threw her head back, her eyes slamming shut, her body bursting with heat and electricity and the familiarity of his body, of his dick inside her. They stilled for a millisecond, simply relishing in being connected again after six months. His hand cradled her jaw as he turned her head a little and craned his neck down to kiss her again, slow and unhurried. When he pulled away, he rolled his hips against her, thrusting inside and pulling her up a little to accommodate the difference of their heights.

This was what she been waiting for, what she had been dreaming about so often after their first night, and that it was _finally_ happening again made her head spin and her voice low and needy in spite of her best efforts to keep quiet. She moaned his name, bucked against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, his hand pressed flatly against her stomach to keep the skirt of her dress up. Soul grunted against her ear, the deep gravelly rumble of his voice making her core clench, hastening his pace. Her blood boiled with the scalding ferocity of their passion, drawing out her voice in wordless cries, high-pitched and ardent with need.

Her orgasm hit her when he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot within her, her eyes wide open, as she keened against the wall, her flesh slick and hot as he grabbed her breast, and ground against her a few more times before he spilled into her, careful to keep her dress away from the mess they made. Soul groaned her name, pressed feathery light kisses up her neck, against the delicate curve of her jaw, up her cheekbone and temple.

Maka's chest was heaving, her wobbly legs quivering when he detached himself from her back and she turned around to embrace him just as his strong arms encircled her waist and their lips found each other again. They were sporting the same goofy smile when they broke the kiss, grinning from ear to ear, their eyes communicating on a whole different level that words never could. Perhaps it was alright not to take it slow; this felt too good to keep their hands off each other, and it was okay to go about this at their own pace.

Maybe they could just slip away unnoticed and keep going at it, or maybe they should just get cleaned up and show their faces to the guests once more before everyone noticed their absence and realized what scandalous things they had been doing together. It was the neatly folded handkerchief at his breast pocket that became the victim of post-coital cleanup, and when they returned to the grand ballroom hand in hand, their clothes back in place, their hair maybe little messier than before, nobody paid them any mind aside from Aunt Rosemary, who glared at them disapprovingly, making their silly smiles falter the slightest bit as Maka averted her gaze and avoided making any eye contact with her for the remainder of the night.

The rest of the wedding passed in a blur, with everyone eating the delicious creations of Soul, and him getting really flustered when people complimented him on his work. How could they not? He had really outdone himself this time. While the wedding cake was a simple white cake with no further additions of decorative marzipan or chocolate and cream, only given colour with real red rose petals strewn all over the multiple layers, what had made Maka really gape were the multi tiered platters that had been set up, full with cupcakes mostly held in white with meticulous attention to detail with the decoration. Tiny butterflies, violins, treble clefs, doves, bows and whatever designs Liz and Wes had picked adorned the towers of cupcakes. They looked so pretty that Maka had admitted to Soul that she didn't even want to eat them, just look and admire. Soul had rolled his eyes, gruffly telling her that that was the reason why he disliked "gaudy as shit" designs on his pastries.

At one point, Soul asked her to dance again, and from that point on, he danced with her the whole night without complaining once. His parents - Cecelia and Jonathan Evans - approached them, exchanging a few pleasantries, particularly with Maka, and she couldn't help but belatedly realize that she had not only skipped the dating phase with Soul before she slept with him, but she had also skipped the whole being together for a long time before being introduced to his parents phase, too.

She was feeling slightly dizzy when Cecelia gave her a thin smile, her dark eyes unreadable, and Jonathan clapped Soul on the shoulder before they excused themselves to the dancefloor. Soul tugged at her hand, their fingers twined.

"I think my mom likes you," he said innocently.

"Pfft, it really didn't seem like it to be honest."

"Trust me, she likes you or she wouldn't have smiled at you like that."

"It looked like she was just trying to be polite."

"Nah, that's one of her warm smiles actually." Soul grinned and she wasn't sure if he was joking or not. But he pulled her back to the dancefloor as the band called all couples for one last waltz.

Maka had lost all track of time when the dance ended and Liz excitedly motioned for her and the other bridesmaids and unmarried ladies, waving at them with her bouquet full of white roses.

She heaved a sigh as Soul squeezed her hand, laughing quietly to himself as Maka walked to the small group of women that had gathered a few paces behind Liz's turned back.

"Are you ready, Ladies?" Liz bellowed, and there was a mutual cry of Yes. She swung the roses over her head in a wide arc and Maka made two steps towards the general direction of the flying bouquet before she just stopped and evaded an elbow of the blonde woman with the eyepatch next to her. Maka watched mutely as the woman's fingers grazed the flowers before someone else pushed against her and the bouquet went up again. There was a mad scramble of limbs and legs and shouts as the white roses seemed cursed to be kicked and hit against the ceiling over and over again. Maka carefully backed away like a few other girls who were more determined to get through this ordeal without any bruises to their faces.

The woman with the eyepatch shoved everyone away like a fricking sledgehammer and jumped on her heels, her hand reaching out, but then she closed her fist too suddenly and instead of catching the bouquet, she just managed to hit it out of her and everyone's reach. The roses flew over Maka's head and for the briefest second she contemplated catching it, her hand rising the slightest bit before she let it drop.

There was  _thud_ , the sharp intake of a shared breath as all air seemed to be sucked out of the room.

"Oh my God!"

"Priceless."


End file.
